The Wayfarers Of Ocular Road Part Two

The Wayfarers of Ocular Road Part one  (18+) A man's psychic gift becomes activated by a wanderer on the road. #2007119 by Mantis

The Wayfarers Of Ocular Road (WIP)

By Mantis

Part 2



Approaching Stoystown, a mere splat on the map, their conversation - to that point a back and forth fusillade of witty, mostly sexual banter - had finally ebbed into a moment of silence. Although, as far as Alicia was concerned, silence could have no place within the confines of that peppy little Corolla now that her compulsion to jam had reared its ugly head - as James knew it surely must sooner or later. How silly of him to expect otherwise.

James squirmed in his bucket seat under assault. He was wired from the excitement at the turn of events in Schellsburg, but he felt the strain of long hours behind the wheel and the need to stretch. And also, much to his surprise, there was the burgeoning of a distinct stirring in his loins suddenly which threatened to erupt into a full fledged erection if he didn't do something soon to avoid that embarrassing and rather uncomfortable circumstance. He lowered the windows a little more, much to her dismay. The crisp, cold air helped a little.

There were two things applying pressure on him at that moment, enveloping him in the salty, impetuous world known as ALICIA.

"Welcome to Hell," her whimsical, comically bent Orbs heralded, fully aware of the pressures being exerted on him when he'd taken a moment to glance at her and see them.

"It can't be that bad, my dear Sentients... can it?"

"Try living with her for a week or two... let alone a lifetime." That was harmless enough, but they chuckled knowingly amongst themselves in a way that suggested there was some inside joke inherent in that statement. James surmised the joke was on him.

"Ah, you guys." He shook his head and stifled a smile, lest she think him a little nutty. "You're a bit tough on her."

"She needs tough love, this one... if we're all to save her from herself."

"We all?"

"Indeed, James. Your love is most important of all."

Typical Orb speak. What are they not telling me?

"Don't suppose you'd care to elaborate?"

"Ah, no... not right now, thank you."

"Thought so."

"In time, good sir... in time"

If nothing else, her presence did carry the distinct benefit of helping to push the overwhelming sadness of Anna's passing to the recesses of his mind for the time being, where now the constriction in his chest had loosened and become nearly forgotten.

The first - rather less titillating - of the two pressures was the jarring punk rock which rocketed out of his speakers in sparking streamers of aggression; each raunchy, grating power-chord an assault on his being; each rat-a-tat drum beat nearly making his heart skip a beat; and lyrics that, when he could even understand the garbled phrases issuing from the smoke, drug and alcohol addled vocal chords of the singers, seemed to take pleasure in distancing themselves as far from profundity as they possibly could.

How the hell does she even find these stations way out here in the sticks? "Keep your mitts off the radio dial..." Yeah, right... good luck with that one!

The second of the two pressures, the one currently causing him the dilemma with his aching member, was the permeation of scent radiating from her bare feet, which had been insolently relieved of their jump boots and socks not three miles from Schellsburg, swung up and rested on the passenger dash, and at that moment, were swaying back and forth in time to the pounding beat of the music while she aired them out. They seemed to be the only part of her body not adorned with cuts and bruises. They were quite beautiful and shapely in fact.

Apparently, she had not lied about her feet, and sadly, being well within the bounds of thirty paces, he'd become hypnotized sure enough. Beguilingly, they possessed a sweet, womanly fragrance, pungent and fruity, abundantly sexy, thick with a scent foretelling intimacy. It immediately enlivened his senses, stirring him to arousal as if by the stroke of her hand or the wet velvet swipe of her tongue. It wafted upon the air currents inside the car, swirling about his head in a dizzying dance of seduction. This was the pressure of aphrodisiac; a sexy postcard sent from the exotic Isles of her femininity, subtle one moment, distinct the next, and it was all part of Alicia's intriguing Universe.

"This is rather embarrassing," his eyes fluttered a broadcast. "How the hell does one so... so road-worn affect me like this?"

"Indeed, James, how so?" replied her Orbs. "Your lovely Anna would be so very dismayed by your lechery." Once again, they chuckled at his expense.

Listen how they mock me...

"But our darling is a special girl," they continued, "and far beyond merely the... ahem, delightful fragrance of her feet. Special, James... especially as it relates to you."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"In time, good sir... in time."

"Pittsburgh is not so far away, you know," said James, trying to coax the info out of her stubborn Orbs. "Soon we will part ways. Surely you wish to convey your meaning sooner rather than later."

"Suffice it to say that Pittsburgh is not the end of your journey together... far from it."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Why, you have not even discussed with us yet the many relevant facts about our darling here."

"Well, you're not exactly forthcoming right now. Plus, while my gift is very powerful, it's not so great that I can converse fully with you while keeping my eyes on the road. In fact, if we don't end this conversation right now, I'm liable to drive right off the road."

"Well then, may we suggest a nutritious meal break. There's a Denny's right up the road."

"Now that's a damned good idea, gentlemen."

"You hungry?"

"What?"

James frowned and turned the music way down.

"I said, are you hungry?"

Alicia's head perked up, swung in his direction and she smiled as big as she could without drawing a wince. "Hell yeah, Jamesy! I thought you'd never ask." She jammed her hands in her snorkel pockets and cuddled herself within its cocoon of warmth; an air of excitement upon her like only the idea of food could elicit in a starving vagrant. "Although," she warned, "you must understand that I'm... ah, a little short right now."

"Really? What a surprise," feigned James mockingly. "I suppose you'll insist on reimbursing me at your earliest convenience?"

She belched out a laugh. "You're nearly as silly as your loafers, chumley, you know that?" She glanced at her feet and wiggled her toes playfully. "But if you behave yourself, I may just let you massage my aching feet later. How's that for reimbursement?"

Both of them looked at her feet just then. It was only she who grinned, and quite coyly at that. He, on the other hand, was instantly swept away in momentary fantasy.

Jeez... does she actually know how turned on I am right now? That would suck.

And that ever so brief fantasy, elicited by her ever so tireless banter, was all it took for his member to graduate from merely agitated to fully engorged. He prayed she wouldn't notice. He furtively moved his shirt to cover his crotch, feeling the moment was a rather outlandish one. "One hot meal, coming up," came his rubeish reply.

"Sweet! Now you're talkin'." And on went her boots again.

Oh, thank God! A reprieve from her pheromones...

When they walked into the Denny's and made their way to their table, all eyes settled on Alicia, as if the very face on a Wanted poster; this gunslinger come barging through the swinging saloon doors carrying the dust of the trail with her. She was quite nonplussed, tickled actually by the wholly familiar situation, and even waived to and stuck her tongue out at a pair of elderly women dining together who stared scurrilously at her, simply unable to rip their eyes off of the feral creature that dared to enter their space. After Alicia's taunt, they both looked away, indignant, and began mumbling to each other, no doubt talking about her.

Of course, James himself was scrutinized too, being the one audacious enough to enter into this good family establishment with such a wildling. Unlike Alicia, he lowered his eyes and trailed behind her embarrassed by the attention, and walked with his tail between his legs.

"Three eggs scrambled..." begun Alicia, "...and don't burn 'em, okay? Three sausage links, hash browns, white toast and coffee... black."

"That all?" Flo, the middle aged, frumpy waitress quipped between vigorous chomps of her chewing gum. It made crackling sounds from the force of her powerful jaw.

"And a tall stack of flapjacks please... now that you mention it."

James' wallet began to shudder. "Please... don't hold back or anything."

She smirked at him, bristling with amusement. "Just think 'reimbursement'. It's not so... hard!"

Oh boy... busted!

"She's a keen observer, James. We hope you won't forget this valuable lesson." Her Orb's laughter was nothing short of blistering.

"You two will get yours... just wait and see!" His eyes shot daggers at them.

He settled for Eggs Benedict and coffee, lots of cream and sugar.

"Right," said Flo, not at all surprised, and headed away.

"Why don't you take your snorkel off and stay awhile?"

"Nope... I like it on."

"Okay." He suddenly became conscious of her completely black attire. It irked him. He asked her Orbs about that, and they filled him in on the whys and whatnots. "I see. Wow... that's some deep shit."

"It's something that bothers us too, James. Perhaps you can help her to understand how ridiculous she is with her fashion statement."

"I'm no psychoanalyst. What do you expect me to do about it?"

"You have your gift, James. You now know the facts... thanks to us. Confront her with it. Making her begin to face herself and her nonsensical notions is the path to breaking her apathy; and that, in turn, is the way we'll be able to save her. Beginning with her atrocious get up is a good place to start."

"I'll try," moaned James.

"Whoa," said Alicia, "You've really got a problem with your eyes, don't you?" Without warning, she reached across and gently outlined the curve of his left eyebrow with her finger, then softly caressed the delicate skin below his eye. "What is it, nerves?" She leaned closer to him and inspected his eyes. "Do they hurt?"

James was taken aback by this sudden, caring gesture, this first reveal of a softer side to her personality. It melted his heart to a degree, and he found it very pleasing in comparison to her hard-core guile. But he wasn't ready to explore the softer, more compassionate side of their relationship just yet. Plus he wanted to move away from the subject of his eyes altogether.

"They hurt plenty... especially having to look at all your blackness," he said, craftily swinging the conversation back to the mission at hand. "So, what gives with that anyway?" he asked, even though he already knew her secrets. He had to get her to face up to her psychosis, as her Orbs had suggested.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" she asked nonchalantly, completely unaware of the plotting taking place against her by her Sentient Orbs and her very own chauffeur.

"I don't know... there's nothing really wrong with them. It's just... why all the black? For somebody who spends her life at the side of the road, aren't you supposed to be dressed in bright colors? You know... for safety and all."

"Oh my, Mr Jamesy, you'll positively make me swoon with all your concern for my safety," she said Southern Belle style, then pretended to cage her laughter for a brief moment before erupting in a chortle. She cuddled herself inside the deep recesses of her snorkel again, a look of contentment painting her pretty but beat up face. A cozy inn, good company, a glorious hot meal on its way - what was not to love about the moment? "I suppose you're gonna suggest I start wearing reflectors on my snorkel, huh?" She giggled.

"No really... tell me, why all the black? Is there a reason?"

His pressing of the subject began to make her fidgety. She suddenly removed her snorkel, and he guessed her thinking: the less black he saw, the more apt he was to change the subject.

Wrong, honey!

"C'mon... what's the deal?" he continued to nudge.

Her giggling ceased and she sighed heavily, obviously annoyed with this banal subject.

"Good, good," injected her Sentient Orbs, "don't let her off the hook. Let's get down to the nitty gritty."

"Can't wait for the fireworks, can you?" fluttered his eyes at her Orbs. "Shall I get the popcorn?"

Silence.

"Well?" he resumed interrogating her.

"Listen man, so I like black. What's the big deal?"

"Because it's silly."

"As silly as your loafers?"

He ignored that. "Take a yellow sun dress, for instance, with a sexy pair of clogs... now that outfit would really bring out the radiance of your raven hair... don't you think?"

"Oh, go away! You trying to make me nauseous before my breakfast?"

"Yeah, a nice sun dress and clogs... now that's the ticket."

"Ah, winter's coming, chumley... if you haven't noticed. And that pretty dress you're so enamored with would really do me a lot of good out there on the road twenty four seven," she scoffed. "Talk about feeding the lamb to the lions..."

"You don't have to live on the road, you know. Nobody's forcing you."

"Would you please shut up, chumley. You're beginning to bug me."

"I'll bet you haven't got one piece of clothing in your duffle bag that isn't black. Am I right?"

"Maybe you are, so what?"

"I'd just like to know why you make such a concerted effort to avoid all colors except black. What's with that, anyway?" He wasn't giving up. Her Orbs were not to be discounted in matters important for her catharsis, and James instinctively sensed that they were right. And even though he was cheating, using his gift, he found that he wanted to get to know her, not just through discussions with her eyes, but in the normal way people do - the normal back and forth. He wanted to form a connection with her outside the aura of his gift.

Just the way I felt with Anna...

Whoa... did I just compare Alicia to my precious Anna?

"Precious?" her Orbs suddenly injected.

"What?" James flinched at their sudden intrusion into his thoughts. Did they just read my mind? Or did I just blink out loud? "What did you just say?"

"Oh, nothing... don't mind us."

"No, no... you meant something by that, and I want to know what... now!"

"Just an innocent question is all... something we felt you may have thought about from time to time."

"Are you calling into question my love and devotion to Anna, you rascals?"

"Haven't you done so yourself, James? We're merely a reflection of you, Sir."

"I..." James Krouplitz was suddenly stopped in his tracks. He became immediately flustered, unsettled.

Had he ever questioned his love for Anna? Had he spent time searching his soul, trying to determine if it was a mistake or not to press forward with his love for her, to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her?

He knew right then and there it would be futile to pretend otherwise. He simply couldn't deny that he had.

God damned Orbs!

The fact was, he'd pained over the decision often. He'd had doubts, despite knowing in his heart he respected her greatly, held her in esteem as the delightful, lovely woman she was, so beautiful and creative. But there was always the question in the back of his mind: was he being rash propelling things forward? Was he enamored with her based solely on the overwhelming emotions his gift had brought about, the intimate knowledge of her it had shed? Or was it purely heartfelt love he was feeling, a love destined to blossom regardless of his gift... it being nothing more than an enhancement of it, the proverbial icing on the cake? Weren't they simply made for each other?

He liked to think that were so. But still...

He knew he'd pushed through with the declarations of love and the proposal of marriage before he'd ever come to a definitive conclusion. But after all was said and done, after vows were taken, a new life begun, he'd been compelled to make the best of it, to spend all his energy on caring and providing for her the best that he could, doubts be damned!

Indeed, he did love her. But were they born for each other? Was it that kind of love? Even after they'd settled down together, doubts lingered in his mind. He did his best to push them aside, to forget all about them. And, because he was a pragmatic man, he'd done a fine job of it too, did right by her, right up until the time of her death - that is, up until now, with her Orb's simple, and wholly annoying question: Precious?

Are you sure, James?

He blinked back in focus to the Sentient Orbs. "My gift has always been very powerful. My gift. My power. But I see now that much of the power, much of the wisdom and insight lay largely within the Orbs themselves, the Orbs that I've come to know. And I just a... surveyor of that wisdom.

Right now, I'm consumed with your darling, in trying to help her, like you wish... but we must make time to discuss all these things... all the secrets that you know, not only about Alicia, but about me, my gift, and its intents."

"Indeed, James. In time, good sir... in time."

James wiped his watering eyes and focused on Alicia again. She was peering intently at him with a look of concern. "You all right, Jamesy?"

"Sorry... phased out there for a moment. Where were we? Oh, right... So I asked you, what's with all the black, woman?"

"Ah jeez... is this never ending? I don't know, dude, black is just... black. You know, black is cool, man." Now she was really fidgety. "All the cool people wore black at school."

"You mean all the adolescent miscreants?"

"Don't be so quick to judge, Jamesy. It's not a very attractive trait."

"You're twenty four years old... I find it silly that you're still trying to emulate the cool kids in class."

"Hey, I don't remem..."

"And judging people is not so horrible as it's touted to be... Alishey. Is it so wrong to judge a murderer or a child molester... or a beater of hitchhikers dressed all in black..."

"Hey... wai..."

"Should we just turn a blind eye to their atrocities - not to mention our very neighbors who do stupid and callous things, and not make serious judgements about them... whether or not to befriend and include them in our lives, or scorn them?"

He was bamboosling her, he knew, and he could see she didn't like it one bit. He was going to make her come clean, even if he had to rage it out of her.

"I don't remember telling you my age," she said, suddenly alarmed. She eyed him suspiciously. "What, was that just a lucky guess? Or are you reading my mind again?" She gave him a dirty look, then sat back in the booth, endeavoring to appear relaxed, in control. But it was only a guise. Anyone could see she was losing her cool, as if sensing a moment of sheer unpleasantness was soon about to arrive at her doorstep.

"So you just want to be cool, huh? And you're just totally enamored by the look of blackness... is that it? Is that what you're telling me?"

Alicia reached back and put her snorkel back on. "Yeah, that's it, bro," she said defiantly, defensively.

"You're so full of shit... you know that?"

"Oh right," she erupted. "So you know everything about me, is that it? What, are you the fucking Delphic Oracle, or something? I suppose now you're gonna tell me why I choose to wear all black."

The waitress returned with their food, momentarily sidetracking their conversation, placing one dish in front of James - Eggs Benedict, done in Denny's very own special brand of gourmet - and three plates full of steaming breakfast in front of Alicia.

When Flo left, Alicia dug into her meal with gusto, shoveling the food into her mouth like she hadn't eaten for days, and James knew she hoped this uncomfortable conversation would come to an end now that the food had arrived.

Dream on, woman!

He filed through his mental microfiche, recalling what her Orb's had explained. "You're hiding in the shadows..."

"Huh?" she intoned through a mouthful of food.

"...hidden away behind your blackness, your wall of darkness, embarrassed and ashamed to be seen after all the hurt you've caused you're loved ones." She stopped in mid bite, froze by these unexpected words.

He'd gathered from her Orbs that she had seriously hurt her family, but what they were so stubborn in revealing was exactly what she'd done. More and more, he felt compelled to find out, whether through her Orbs, or through an investment in a strong relationship bond with her, one way or the other, he would know.

"You bury yourself in a cloister of black," he pressed on, "a dark shroud that nobody can penetrate, that conceals you from the world... even from yourself, loathe that you are to look in the mirror."

She coughed, almost spitting out her food. A frown upon her brow began to transform into the shaky, unstable look of imminent emotional breakdown. "Where are you getting..."

"That all encompassing blackness... your tool, your implement to stifle anything decent that might still reside somewhere inside you after all these years. Of course you wear no colors, God forbid you shine in the light of beauty... that would not be very apt for one who has so thoroughly pillaged the fabric of family and friends, now would it?

So you choose instead to squash whatever is left, to stain yourself with black. That miserable blackness... your Black Fortress, you scurry in its dank eddies and ponder all your bad deeds, wallow in self pity. Use it against yourself, use it to guarantee that you'll never shine through, never escape from your banishment, your self imposed punishment you're so convinced you deserve."

"Wonderful, James... wonderful! We applaud you," cheered her Sentient Orbs."

"I've got news for you, honey, if you think you deserve to be punished, then you're already on the road to redemption."

And there it was, layed out plain as day. He suddenly sensed that he may be moving in the direction of revealing his gift to her at some point. How does one use such a powerful gift as his, like he'd just done, to mold and craft a relationship with, but then never reveal it - especially to someone he claims to care about? How could that ever be righteous?

But first he would need to ponder the repercussions of such a move; would need to evaluate exactly where he stood with her; to determine if he really cared enough.

Now, having said his piece, he removed his gaze from her and her Orbs, and sunk into his breakfast.

Interestingly, there was no reply, no yelling or reviling, no snarky retorts. Only the sound of sniffling.

When he glanced up again, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks. What else did he expect when the truth was thrust upon her with such force.

In a moment of deep humanity, James reached across and took her hand in his. She recoiled violently, pulling her hand away, then sat on both of them, lest she feel the urge to strike out. She looked directly at him, the corners of her mouth tugging downward as she tried with all her might to refrain from sobbing openly; yet there was no control she could muster to rescind the tears, which made her eyes glitter and sparkle in the harsh florescent lights.

"Don't touch me,' she barked, now with fire behind the tears. "Who the hell are you?" The steam from her huge breakfast rose up toward the ceiling between them, and in James' tired mind, it was a vivid representation of the ire boiling inside her, radiating from her head. "I don't know why you want to hurt me." She peered intently at him through watery eyes. She pushed her plates to the side, ignored now, forgotten, and leaned in towards him. "Is it because you can't get a piece of me without paying?" she accused, misguided.

"Nothing like that, Alicia."

"Then why? Why would you say those things to me?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Alicia. Not at all! Those things simply needed to be said to you. You've got to grow up."

"Those things you said are all crap! How dare you foist all that bullshit on me!"

"You know it's true."

"Bullshit!"

"Your tears say differently."

"Fuck my tears!"

"Your tears reveal your heart."

"I... I..."

"Let it out, Alicia. I'm your friend, no matter what you may think right now."

And he could see then that the emotion in her could be contained no more. She erupted in a full out cry, bringing her hands up to cover her face. Her ribs heaved in and out as she sobbed. James felt the need to try again and put his hand on her greasy, mottled hair, stroking her head gently. She did not recoil this time.

James was aware that most folks in the restaurant where watching them, but he tuned them out. His hand palmed her head lovingly, his thumb stroking back and forth near her temple.

In a moment, Alicia looked up at him with the saddest of eyes, sniffling back the accumulated mucus brought on by her cry. She suddenly reached up with both hands and held on to the hand at her head. She clung to it, suddenly desperate for its caring touch. It was a profound moment, and she held on to that hand, loathe to let go. She pressed her head against it, and moved in such a way that its warm pad soon cupped her cheek.

"You actually care about me, don't you, James?" she snuffled. She looked away from him, downward into her lap, her gaze remaining there while she continued. "I see that. You've known me for like two hours, a practical stranger, yet you know me better than everybody I've ever loved... or hurt. I haven't felt cared for by anybody in... in like a gazillion years."

James remained quiet.

She returned her gaze to him, her face red and puffy now, in addition to all the nicks and bruises. A thought flashed in his mind: What I wouldn't give to see her face fresh and clear, radiating her unique beauty...

"I'm not mad. I believe that you are my friend, and I believe you when you say those things needed to be said... I see that now. I see that it's time I started looking in the mirror." She released his hand, which came away from her cheek. She grabbed a napkin, blew her nose. He began to withdraw his arm, but she quickly dropped the napkin and grasped his hand again, holding it between both of hers. He felt them trembling. Such was the power of his Gift.

By that simple act, he understood immediately how starved her soul was for genuine, loving, human contact - far apart from the base and brutal fondlings her occasional tricks, or those few mere boy-toys she'd taken for her own needs, meted out; and he understood it more clearly right then than any length of conversation with her Orbs could ever have conveyed. "It's about time, I guess..." she said, "...huh?" She let out a sardonic laugh.

"I'd say so."

"That sure ain't gonna be fun."

"You'll be fine."

"But how, James? How could you... know? I mean, how could you ever be able to discern all that stuff about me... as if I'd written you a letter long ago describing all my thoughts?"

"We're strangers, Alicia, and I realize how weird it must be for you to hear me tell you all that stuff about yourself, but there's things you don't know about me. I'm... ah, well, you see, I have pow..."

Wait, James... slow down. Not here, not now. 

"...there's things about me that are weird too. Like you, I have quirks I need to deal with on a daily basis. It's just that you're not as good at reading people as I am... that's all."

"And after all these years on the road, I thought I'd become pretty good at reading people. You don't make it very far on the road if you can't. But, jeez, Jamesy, you take the cake!"

"Sometimes, we have help..." was all he could think to say.

Please don't follow up on that.

"Am I such an open book? Am I so shallow that even a perfect stranger can see right through me?"

"Nah... as far as I can see, you're awesome, pure and simple!" It was time to heal. 

"You do realize, mister, you hit the nail right on the head. How the hell you did that I don't know, but it's true, all of it. I hide from the world in my black clothes. I hide from myself. I feel somehow safe in black... what did you call it - my 'Black Fortress'. Ha! How apropos." She looked off toward the ceiling, deep in thought. "I'm scared to look at myself, to see what I am... scared to know me, who I've become."

"The question is: do you want to change?"

"Are you offering your help?"

"I think I am." Not an ounce of hesitation. Very curious, James.

"Then I think perhaps I do."

"Well, do you want to tell me why you're running from the world?"

"No. I don't. Not right now. Hell, James, don't you already know?"

Maybe I would if your Orbs weren't so damned stubborn!

"We heard that, James."

James' eyes fluttered again in ocular speak. "I'm not through with the two of you... not by a long shot! We've got a lot to discuss."

"Indeed. In time, good sir... in time."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Damn, chumley, there they go again... your eyes are crazy hyper!You still haven't told me what's the deal with them. You know, unlike you, I can't read minds."

"Oh, it's just... just a condition. I hope it doesn't bother you. It doesn't bother me none."

"It's actually kind of cute," she said, the beginnings of a smile starting to blossom. She wiped the wetness from her eyes. Her boot suddenly knocked against his shin underneath that table, and he felt his stomach muscles tighten with a surge of desire when it lingered against his calf longer than expected. Luckily, she removed it before it became an uncomfortable and embarrassing issue for him again.

He reached out, gently touched the bruises on her face, the raw crack upon her lip.

"Let's go, shall we? I want to make a stop at CVS."

"CVS?"

He eyed her lip and all her bruises. "Yeah, CVS."

"Well wait a second, Jamesy... I haven't even made a dent in my breakfast yet."

"Oh yeah... me neither."

"You've done well, James," her Orbs said approvingly. "Things seem to be progressing smoothly. This is rather spectacular!"

James Krouplitz sighed. "I'm not in the mood for your vagaries right now, if you please... Oh, All Seeing, All Knowing Orbs."

"Do we detect sarcasm?"

"Heavens no!" He made hat particular blink positively drip with sarcasm - in case they needed clarification.

"But we have so much to discuss, James."

"In time, good sirs... in time."

Both James and Alicia returned heartily to their breakfasts.

"Hmph!" said her Orbs.

The Wayfarers of Ocular Road Part 3  (18+) A man's special gift becomes activated by a wanderer on the road. #2035857 by Mantis